Gearing up for Yule


I don’t care how many shopping days, what matters now is, how many singing days are there til the Solstice?

And how many reading days? My evenings are  split roughly equally between singing and promoting the books between now and Christmas.

Rehearsals every Monday for Vivaldi Gloria at Blackheath Halls Christmas Concert

Tuesdays at the Horniman Museum preparing for the end of term Raise the Roof concert (the last under the organic direction of Melanie Harrold)

Lester Simpson workshop on 1st December (folk carols, my favourite kind.)  All afternoon get tickets to join in here

Squeezing in Summer All Year Long rehearsals for our gig at Hills & Parkes in aid of Shelter on 15th December at 3:30, which might be followed by other places including Brockley Christmas Market.

Reading STATIONS at Canvas & Cream Wednesday 28th November 7pm

and Deptford Lounge Thursday 29th November at 7pm

The Official Launch at Brunel Museum on Sunday 2nd December 12:30-2:30

Hills & Parkes Wednesday 5th December at 6pm

and Brick Lane Bookshop Thursday 6th December at 7pm

So, no I don’t care how many shopping days it is, because I’m not going shopping! Friends and Family: your choice – you can have a copy of Stations or London Lies as your festive gift, or I could sing you a carol…?

Why Short Stories?


There’s been a lot of chat going on recently about short stories, including on the radio, this week’s Open Book had  Aminatta Forna giving a potted history of the short story from Poe, Chekhov and Saki to Helen Simpson, and even Ramblings (a walking programme … fascinating, listen!) had Claire Balding in company with short story writer Anna Maria Murphy. (nothing like being stuck at home recovering, for catching up with the radio in between sleeping.)

Having written two collections of short stories myself (and with enough material for 2 more!) and planning to publish (I hope) at least 6 anthologies over the next year or two, you’ll have gathered I’m quite keen!

I had an email yesterday in response to my posting about London Lies, in which the writer says

I was sure that it was near impossible to get short story collections published unless you are a well-known author

and asking how I managed it.

My very first short story was published in an anthology over 20 years ago. It was called Penelope Is No Longer Waiting, and I had sent it to Rosemary Manning, who was a friend, to cheer her up when she was unwell.  I got a phone call a couple of days later, saying

you could publish this

and then I saw a call for submissions from Onlywomen Press, and sent it off, and was accepted.  That easy.  I can still remember opening that letter, so thrilling.

I had two more stories in a further anthology at OWP, and then having got quite friendly with Lilian Mohin, the director at OWP, she was complaining about the quality of a lot of the submissions she received, and how she wished everyone wrote as well as me (or words to that effect).  My response was

plenty more where that came from

and I started drip-feeding her stories, one a month, under the heading of ‘entertaining Ms Mohin’, until she gave in and offered to publish a collection.  That was Mosaic of Air.

Mosaic didn’t sell very well, partly because I was in a wallflower phase and wouldn’t do any publicity, (I am so over that, as you may have noticed) and ended up with the remaining stock being pulped.  Not a happy moment!

Life rather caught up with me then and I wrote almost nothing for 11 years, then pulled myself together and published another collection, Tales Told Before Cockcrow. This did much better than Mosaic, and has almost sold out.

But what is it about the short story?

I’ll admit that some of my ‘short’ work is very long, almost novella length (now that’s really difficult to publish) but there’s something about a short story that’s like a jewel: carefully faceted and burnished to perfection, not a word wasted nor out of place.

Novels often have slow passages or subplots that don’t quite come off, but you are in it for the long haul so you put up with it, whereas you can’t afford to drift in a short story; and you can take risks and play games with language and structure, and the reader is prepared to come along because they know it’s not going to take you long to reach the punchline.

Since joining a writing group (WOOA) I’ve discovered that with a defined set of limitations I can write a fully formed story with a beginning middle and end in 20 minutes flat. Short Short stories… not quite flash fiction, because if it’s working, I write fast.

A really good short story settles into your mind with a sigh of satisfaction, like a good malt, or a perfectly toasted and buttered crumpet.

© Cherry Potts 2012